


Through Fire

by notourmoniker (notyourmoniker)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-14 20:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notyourmoniker/pseuds/notourmoniker
Summary: A sleeping curse, a quest to find true love, and trial upon trial along the way. When a budding thirst for revenge is disrupted, the intertwined fates of Regina the queen and Snow White are changed forever. Rated T for now.





	1. Chapter 1

A pinprick. That was all it would take. The needlepoint, sharp and painless, would slip Snow White’s prized pony into a deep and never ending sleep.

But as Regina pulled the pin from it’s hidden place in her gown, the stable door opened loudly. Startled, she teetered backwards onto a pile of hay, the needle just barely piercing her palm before dropping out of grasp. And as voices grew louder and nearer, Regina’s vision darkened as she fell into a soundless sleep.

***

They found her in the stables. No one could say why she was there, only that she would not wake. Doctors and all manner of healers were called to examine her body, lifeless and cold. But she showed no signs of sickness, and her heart still beat soft and slow and rhythmic - as if she had merely fallen asleep.

When it was declared that nothing more could be done, she was taken to her chambers and lain in bed.

Snow rushed in as soon as the nursemaids and guards thinned out enough for her to push her way to the bedside. Seeing Regina, lovely but still, her chest barely rising, she let quietly brimming tears stream down her face.

How many years ago was it that she had watched her mother deteriorate and die in this same room?

She remembered how helpless she had been, how useless. And now, even though she was more woman than child, nothing had changed. Regina would stay comatose forever, and Snow had no power to change it.

Leaning down, she rested her cheek against Regina’s temple. Feeling the vein there pulse, she pulled back and gripped lightly at the queen’s hand.

At the very least, she could stay by her side.

Behind her, more bodies shuffled out of the way as King Leopold moved to stand beside his daughter. Placing a broad hand on her back, he looked at her as a sad smile pulled at his face.

“Snow, go to your own room. There is nothing that can be done here.”

Angling her body away from him, she felt his hand slide off her back.

“Would you have her be alone?”

His mouth opened as thoughts readied to take shape in the space between them, but Snow turned, hand still holding Regina’s, and added;

“I won’t leave her.”

He closed his mouth, and the sadness already evident on his face grew. Wrinkles sunk in deeper and his shoulders fell - making him look smaller than he was. Then, his gaze shifted to Regina. An expression Snow did not recognize passed through his eyes before he nodded and looked back at his daughter.

“This grief will pass. Until then, stay as long as you need to.”

With that, he turned and left, servants and guards filing out behind him.

***

Days then weeks passed, and still she stayed with Regina. Meals were taken in the queen’s room, time was counted by the rotation of the ever present guards just outside the door, and Snow slowly became accustomed to the unabating and whispered voices drifting through the castle.

_Perhaps she’d meant to run away._

_Her mother was a sorceress, it must be the effects of some spell gone awry._

_They say she was there to trade tricks with the Dark One._

For the most part, she learned to ignore them. The eagerness to see betrayal, witchcraft, or even evil in the woman Snow had only ever known as a hero twisted her despair with unwanted anger.

But not all of the rumors that carried to her caused such outrage. Some of what she heard stood out like puzzle pieces against misshapen gossip, pieces ready to be fit together and directed into action.

_I heard she went to visit the witch Maleficent just before it happened._

_The same thing happened to King Stefan’s wife._

_Briar Rose woke but only by use of the most powerful magics._

Names repeated, lent credence to Snow’s own slow forming theories - ones that day by day assured her that she needn’t be as helpless as she felt.

If this was truly the work of dark magic, if like Briar Rose, Regina had been targeted by the sorceress Maleficent, then there was a way to undo it, a way to lift the curse.

So, Snow White began listening more keenly to her staffs’ whispered voices, slipping in questions to probe the depths of their knowledge and measure the weight of their speculations.

A word here or there to servants skittering through Regina’s chambers - meant to ensure that the princess was comfortable, taken care of, and well - helped her build a reservoir of information.

Though any truths she could find were far outweighed by obvious fallacies, Snow encouraged her maids to share the local here-say on royal affairs. It was improper and below her station to give audience to the canards of the help, but that only made them more eager to pass on what they knew.

And with every story, every guess, the pieces Snow collected began to pull together in a half finished picture - not showing everything, but enough that she knew what to do next.

So one night, she waited for the guards at Regina’s door to change shifts. Then she slid into the stone corridor, taking swift and gentle steps until she was away from the high walls of the castle and nearing the stables.

As she entered, moonlight spilled inside, casting a pale glow over the the wooden stalls and the horses within.

Snow’s breath caught in her throat as she pictured Regina here, alone, falling prey to some malcontent’s darkness. The thought might have caused hesitation, but Snow set her jaw and steadied her hands as she started to saddle a horse.

She would ride quickly, out beyond the limit of her father’s lands, and then she would confront the witch Maleficent for what she had done.


	2. Chapter 2

The ride had been long and hard, and Snow’s back and thighs ached from too long in the saddle.

Her rush to reach Maleficent’s territory had driven her on. But now, with the castle looming on the horizon, she pulled to the side of the trail and dismounted. Her horse lowered its head, nibbling at whatever sparse patches of grass managed to grow out of the blackened earth.

Because the nearer they’d come to the witch’s palace, the more the land around them changed. Dense forests gave way to stretched out woodlands - the distance between thick overhead canopies growing farther and farther apart. Undergrowth that started a dark rich green faded to brown, then grey, before succumbing to nothing but ash. Even the few trees growing in this bald patch of forest were more like sticks of charred tinder rather than the lush pines that covered her own kingdom.

And the starkness of the landscape was matched by the invisible presence of magic swirling around her. Though the sensation was foreign, Snow knew it must be sorcery from the way her skin tingled and her heart seized with sudden apprehension.

Before setting out, she had read of Maleficent’s power, heard of the horrors that she played a part in, and knew that there were those who said no weapon was of use against her. But feeling firsthand the effects of her witchcraft, Snow wished she had brought a weapon anyway - even if it was only something to hold and still her shaking hands.

Swallowing, she reminded herself why she was here. The image of Regina, prone in bed, flashed through her mind.

Maleficent had cursed her. Snow needed to know why, and more importantly what magic would undo it. She did not care what price she might be called to pay, she would see Regina awake if was the last thing she did.

So climbing back onto her horse, she nudged her heel into his side and set off towards Maleficent’s castle.

***

From a certain distance she had suspected it, but as she rode nearer all remaining doubts vanished.

The palace was haloed by a ring of bright red fire.

All around, encircling the castle, towering flames lashed against the sky, high and white above. Yet though the air was hot and dry, there was no smoke and no fuel at the fire’s base to keep it burning.

Snow gripped the reigns, letting the leather make soft indents in the palms of her hands. But even as she sat tense in the saddle - every instinct screaming at her to turn back - her eyes were fixed beyond the blaze at the door of the castle. The entryway was open wide, gaping onto a dark and cavernous chamber. It was as though she were looking down the throat of some great beast - a dragon spitting fire.

There was no other way to enter. No way to save Regina without burning herself.

Her horse reared its head and whinnied, and Snow placed the flat of a hand against his neck whispering platitudes she wasn’t sure she herself believed.

But again, she remembered Regina - brave and kind and riding without hesitation to save Snow’s life. Years had passed since that day, but its impact never faded, the memory only growing brighter with time.

Straightening her shoulders, she rounded her horse to face the castle head on. With a flick of the reigns and a sharp press to his side, she spurred the horse to a gallop.

Then, Snow White rode through fire.

As they burst forth from the ring of flames, Snow’s heart beat so fast and hard she worried that Maleficent had enchanted the blaze to do more than burn. But slowing to an uneasy trot, and checking herself and her steed for injury, she was surprised to find them both unharmed. The air even flattened and cooled once they reached the stone floors of the palace.

Slipping from her place in the saddle, she continued on foot.

Wandering through the spacious entryway looking for some sign of life, each step the princess took echoed against the castle’s apparent vacancy. Nearing the end of the room, she was met with a set of heavy wooden doors.

Lifting her gaze, she followed the grain up to where it met the grey stone of the ceiling. Backing up, Snow widened her stance, and drove her all her weight forward.

The door moved, if only slightly.

But heartened by the low whine of hinges being forced into a new position, she continued to push until her face was red with exertion. When her strength elapsed and the door settled, there was a gap just wide enough for her to slide through and pass into the space beyond.

This room was as large and as empty as the one before it. But rather than ending with another wooden doorway, this chamber ended with a set of marble steps leading to single throne. And further behind that were huge and brightly colored stained glass windows.

Light danced around her in pale shades of red, blue, and green. Snow might have found it beautiful if not for her growing sense of dread.

“Maleficent!” she cried.

Silence.

She called out again.

“Maleficent! I am Snow White. I know you cur-”

Before she could finish, the sound of her voice ringing around the vaulted room was cut off and absorbed by a puff of green smoke. Out of it, stepped a tall and beautiful woman - a set of black angular horns atop her head.

“I can hear you dear. There’s no need to shout.”

The witch was looking down, her focus fixed on the back of an extended hand. She seemed uninterested and unbothered by Snow’s intrusion. But there was still a presence to her, a power she exuded - one Snow recognized as the source of the fire and the origin of her unease.

“I am Snow White and I-”

“So you’ve said.”

She cut Snow off a second time, gaze shifting slightly to examine the sleeve of her dark elegant gown.

Steeling herself, Snow spoke again, but rehearsed words caught in her throat making them softer than she intended - barely echoing against the high stone walls.

“I know you cursed my stepmother, Regina the queen.”

Maleficent’s boredom vanished and their eyes met. The weight of her full attention was like falling down a well, dark and deep and unending. But the sound of her voice broke the sensation - anchoring Snow and keeping her thoughts on the reason she had come.

“Regina is cursed?”

Fists clenched at her sides, strength returned to her voice.

“Don’t pretend not to know!”

Snow wan’t sure what she expected then, an admission maybe. What she didn’t anticipate was Maleficent titling her head back and laughing - full and loud.

Recoiling at the sound, her jaw tightened.

“Why are you laughing? Tell me why you’ve done this!”

But the laughter continued to sound around her, mixing with the light filtering through the colored glass window. It made Snow too aware of how small she was, how helpless. Maleficent, though not much taller than herself, filled the room with voice alone, the edges of her power swelling against smooth dark walls. And if she decided not to help, if she decided to turn Snow away, or kill her, the journey would be in vain, Regina would still be cursed, and Snow would prove worthless at helping the woman who once saved her life.

Shoulders rolling forward, she wavered.

“Please tell me how to help her, I beg you.”

The laughter dulled to a low chuckle and again their eyes met - amusement plain on Maleficent’s face.

“I didn’t curse her, dear.” Then, more to herself, she added, “It seems poor Regina really couldn’t manage it after all.”

Snow blinked and leaned forward.

“What are you talking about?”

Maleficent’s throat started to bob as more laughter threatened to emerge.

“ _She_ came to _me_ for that curse.”

Her surprise was so sudden that Snow did not think to conceal it before she spoke.

“Why would she do that?”

Waving a hand dismissively, Maleficent’s interest visibly waned.

“Maybe she meant to curse one of those dreadful beasts in the stable, or maybe she’d simply decided her own life was too unbearable to continue living.”

Nausea and fury rose in the princess at the implication of the second proffered motive, but before she could process it, raise an objection, Maleficent stopped her by adding;

“Truly, I thought she was going to use it on _you_.”

At that, Snow’s rising anger condensed and shattered into broken pieces of anguish.

“Don’t say that. Don’t you _dare_ say that. Regina _loves_ me, and you’re…you’re nothing but a witch and a liar!”

But even as she said it, tears brimmed in her eyes. One broke free, streaking her cheek with a pale glistening line. Maleficent stepped closer, running the backs of her fingers where the tear fell, brushing it away.

“Such _naivety_. Are you so sure Regina _loves_ you.”

It wasn’t a question. Not really. It was spoken as if the answer was already obvious, but Snow shuddered, more tears edging in the corners of her eyes. Doubt grew within her and she feared that the answer was not so clear, and that perhaps the answer Maleficent offered was not the one she sought.

But as her uncertainty flared so too did her temper, and she pushed the sorceress back.

Even with distance between them, Snow’s arms remained tense at her sides, deep lines appearing between her brows. The sound of amused humming hung in the air.

“But there’s a fierceness in you too Snow White, so who can say?”

She shouted in response;

“Regina might have, were she not in some cursed and unwakeable sleep!”

Maleficent moved to close some of the space between them.

“Oh? But there is a way to wake her.” She paused. “But you knew that.”

Snow tried to back away, but glancing behind her with a quick turn of the head, she saw that her heel had met the edge of the lowest marble step. So, lifting her chin she faced Maleficent where she stood.

“Whatever magic is needed, please do it. I’ll do anything.”

The older woman only smiled - the edge of her red lips curling up even as her eyes seemed as dark and empty as they had when Snow first looked upon them.

“It’s not something _I_ can do.”

Swallowing, the lines on the princess’s forehead were joined by lines along her mouth as her expression fell into a look of pained confusion.

“Please, my father’s kingdom has gold and riches. We would happily -”

“You misunderstand. Regina is outside the realm of my aid.”

Snow’s teeth snapped shut, the muscles at the corners of her jaw pulsing with a sudden ache.

“Then what can be done? Tell me!”

“True love’s kiss.”

The small space that remained between them was heavy and still as the older woman’s hastily spoken words gained shape and meaning. And for a moment they were both silent. Snow watched faint shades of color flicker across the wooden door where she had entered, felt the tension that had been building in her since she had left her own kingdom seize at the realization that the answer she had come for had been found.

“Do you understand, Snow White?”

The witch reached out and tucked a strand of long dark hair behind Snow’s ear, watching her own fingers as they curled. Then, her gaze shifted to connect with Snow’s.

“Only true love can do what you desire.” Her hand, still on Snow’s cheek, stirred and a thumb brushed over the princess’s lips. “Only a kiss from her true love will wake Regina.”

“That’s it?” There was a ring of hope in her voice.

Maleficent pulled away as a smile stretched over her face, eyes lightening to a soft shade of blue.

“Yes dear, that’s it.”

Snow’s mind whirred, counting the number of leagues it would take to get home, how fast she would ride, how long it would take to relay what she’d learned, and how soon Regina would be awake and well again.

And as if Maleficent were reading her thoughts, the smile she wore faltered. But Snow did not see. She was already turning and rushing past the wooden doors, out of the castle, and through a ring of fire to ride home so her father could break the curse.

As she rode, getting smaller and smaller against the horizon, Maleficent appeared at the palace entryway. Her eyes darkened once more as she watched the princess Regina had spoken of so ardently.

“I fear dear Regina will not wake for sometime still.” 


	3. Chapter 3

When Snow returned to the castle, breathless and fatigued, palace guards and her father’s most trusted men surrounded her before she could dismount. Steel plated arms reached up, pulling her from the saddle and ushering her beyond stone walls and towards the throne room. As they pushed her along, silver breastplates pressing against her from behind, she struggled to match their smooth strides.

She had pushed herself in her return to the kingdom, and a ragged exhaustion was quickly catching up with her. Stumbling, a set of softer hands landed on her upper arm, steadying her.

“Princess!” It was Johanna, her round face crinkling with lines as she spoke. “Your father has been so worried! Gone without a trace, and so soon after tragedy befell your stepmother!”

Snow tried to angle herself towards Johanna, but the guards did not slow and the older woman’s worried tone continued as she added;

“You must see the king right away! You must ease his worry, assure him no harm has come to you. He has endured such fear in your absence.”

Rounding a corner, they came up on the large ornate doors of the throne room. Knights flanking the entrance saw their approach and hurried to pull the doors open.

As they settled into place, Snow was pushed over the threshold. But as her feet settled and sunk in the throne room’s plush carpet, the multitude of hands that had been on her since arriving suddenly fell away.

Snow White was left standing alone.

At the other end of the room her father sat small and hunched, but as his gaze fixed on her he slowly rose.

“Snow?” he asked, voice lilting up as if until this moment he hadn’t dared hope for her return “Is that my own dear daughter, Snow?”

Hearing his voice, she rushed forward.

“Father!” she cried, embracing him as they met a few paces in front of the throne.

His arms wrapped around her, pressing their bodies together as she rested her face against his shoulder.

Relishing in his presence and the comforts she had forgone since leaving to find Maleficent, Snow pulled away hesitantly. Though her hands continued to rest lightly on his forearms - the soft satin of his coat a stark contrast the leather reigns she had gripped so tightly over the last several days.

For a moment, she simply looked at him, examining his face for new lines and seeing if the brown of his eyes had grown dull.

But she only found relief, his demeanor brightening as he too took her in after so many days apart.

“Father,” she spoke at last, voice only carrying the short distance between them, “forgive me for leaving.”

He stroked her cheek, smiling gently. “Snow, my forgiveness will never be withheld from you.” The smile faltered, “But I must know where you disappeared to? What would cause you to leave without a word?”

At his questioning, Snow took a deep breath, her voice strong and answer resolute.

“Regina.”

The name rang out into the hall like an unsettling din, resounding against stone walls. Metal armor clinked uneasily. But for the disquiet playing across the faces of knights and handmaids, Snow’s exhaustion was staved as she made known the reason for her journey.

“I know how to wake her.”

Murmurs rose up among the onlookers. Leopold’s gaze broke from his daughter as his eyes flitted around the room. Snow’s attention, however, was still fixed, and sliding her fingers down his arm she joined their hands.

“We must go to her right away.”

Before another word was spoken, she turned and led them out of the throne room and towards the queen’s chambers.

As they walked she started to share what she had learned.

“Just a kiss! That’s all it takes! One true love’s kiss and Regina will wake as though she’d never been cursed at all.”

With every word of her hurried explanation Snow’s excitement grew, her pace quickening as they neared Regina’s room. She tried to slow herself, but for each measured step the next came all the faster - hastened as the anguish that had been lurking in the corners of her mind edged away.

But while her anticipation drove her forward, her father lagged. Though his smile had been bright upon seeing her returned safely home, his features had cooled.

His hand was slack and heavy as Snow dragged him forward, and when she glanced behind her she did not recognize that his face failed to reflect the excitement evident on her own.

As they entered the queen’s chambers, her grip on her father’s hand loosened and fell away. The sight of Regina, her dark hair splayed out around her face, skin smooth and still like the stone of polished idol, was haunting. Only her chest’s faint rise and fall betrayed the life that still burned within her.

Life that made her beauty shine all the more brightly, life that illuminated her dark eyes, gave a measure of grace to everything she did, and made her heart beat and body warm.

And soon that life would be returned, Regina would wake, and things would be as they were meant to.

Moving closer to the bed, Snow reached out and took one of the hands neatly folded over Regina’s abdomen. Feeling the fingers lay limply within her own, her lip trembled and she turned to see her father standing motionless in the doorway.  
His gaze fixed on Regina.

Seeing his focus so rapt Snow smiled, believing her father to be as captivated with Regina as she had been. But as he moved forward he faltered. His arm extended to balance himself as he stumbled further into the room.

“Father?”

He smiled tightly at her, a hand coming up to smooth the fabric of his satin coat.

“Snow,” notes of apprehension hung heavy in his voice “Before this goes any further, you must promise me something.”

“What?” Her back straightened as she waited for him to continue.

“If this does not work you must promise me that you will abandon any childish notions that undoing what has happened here is your burden. I will not have Regina’s fate upend your own.”

Hearing his request her shoulders relaxed.

“Father, would you truly ask for something so trivial when the curse is mere moments away from being broken?”

But even at her earnest impatience his lips were pressed together into a thin hard line.

“Promise me Snow.”

Huffing softly, she nodded.

“I promise.”

He returned her nod before taking measured steps forward. He and Snow stood side by side - looking down on the prone body of the queen. Bending at the waist, hands folded neatly behind him, he pressed a light kiss to Regina’s cheek and stepped away.

Snow immediately slid over, occupying the space where he had just been.

And then, for a moment, she watched.

She watched to see where life would first come back to Regina. It might be with a twitch of the fingers, a gasp of full breath, or a slow opening of her eyes when she would see Snow above her and smile.

But the moment passed, and Regina did not stir. Her breathing remained shallow and even, her body was still, and her eyes did not open.

And though Snow did not stop watching her, her eager and hopeful smile slowly fell into a look of open mouthed pain and confusion.

Tense moments ticked past in the quiet of the queen’s chambers until Snow White turned to look at her father.

“It didn’t work.”

His eyes met hers from under the rim of his crown. He did not seem the image of comfort he had been only moments ago. Instead he was replaced by this man, a stranger who could not be the father Snow so loved and admired.

And with all the replies he might have given, for every response he might have had - sadness, fear, outrage, shock to match Snow’s own - he simply said;

“Remember your promise.”

And as she let his response settle in her, as the way she saw him shifted, Snow’s pain grew until she simply said;

“I can’t.”

Not bothering to conceal his displeasure, he frowned.

Snow’s gaze fell away from his disapproving look as she tried to understand what had happened.

“I have to help her. I-I thought you could help her.”

She fell over her words, the assurance of Regina’s imminent waking that had carried her home was suddenly clouded with doubt and uncertainty. Her father though, did not move from where he stood, expression unchanged. And as he spoke, his tone was too calm, scolding in its evenness.

“Snow, that was not what you promised me.”

But his impassivity only served to make Snow more emotional. Her exhaustion and frustration building until she nearly shouted her replied.

“How can you not care? How can you see her here and not want to do everything… _anything_ to help her?”

Leopold sighed, eyes shutting tightly in exasperation.

“Though it does me pain me to see you so unhappy, you are acting like a child.”

Snow’s fists clenched at her sides.

“A child!”

Preventing her indignation from finding further voice, he continued.

“I fear I have done you a disservice. Since your mother’s death you have wanted for the stern hand of a parent, I in my grieving have withheld it, but now I see how my coddling has impeded you.”

Snow’s jaw was tense, the muscles pulsing and sore as she struggled to bite back words that she never thought she’d want to use.

“Coddled!” she cried, “I am _not_ a child! Girls my age are married already - Regina was married younger than I am now!”

It was true. There was only a six year difference between them. But now Snow White stood before her father a full year older than Regina had been when she’d married him. And until this moment she’d never really thought about what that meant, when the words seemed to have a meaning beyond the way in which she’d used them. So when she saw her father’s adam’s apple bob in his throat, his eyes suddenly widen and shift away uncomfortably, a half formed and horrible thought came together in the back of her mind

But as she struggled to understand it, make out its shape, her father raised a tempered hand, and the thought slipped away as her outrage flared.

“I cannot allow you to jaunt about on a foolhardy quest” Pausing, he quickly glanced again at the bed “even for Regina’s sake.”

“She’s your wife!”

Snow stepped closer, briefly glimpsing over his shoulder. Servants and guards in the doorway behind him, and likely the hallway beyond, did their best to be still - an audience to a scene that had drastically strayed from the script Snow had hoped it would follow.

But her gaze was drawn back as her father spoke with finality.

“And you are my daughter. Your life takes precedence.”

His words landed heavy on her. The path to awaking Regina suddenly blocked by the very one Snow had thought would break the curse. But he hadn’t been able to break it, and now he was crushing her hopes of finding the one who could.

Her image of this day was crumbling, breaking off into rubble beneath her feet. Muffled voices from the hallway drifted to her in pieces that she couldn’t make fit together, at least not into a picture she wanted to see. But as she stood there, mind going over everything that had gone wrong, something in her father’s words stuck out - a gleaned fragment of hope that Snow grabbed onto as soon as she recognized it.

Meeting her father’s hard look, her own was bright as she said;

“Then send for Prince Henry! Regina’s father! If he loves her as you do me, then hope remains that the curse can be broken.”

Her desperate plea falls flat. Her father’s expression remained unchanged, and the curiosity of the palace’s voyeurs turned to anxious action at her defiance.

And from the corner of her eye Snow sees Johanna rushing towards her, guards only a step behind. Swallowing, her determination catches in her throat.

“Please, send for Prince Henry.”

Her gaze stays fixed on her father as Johanna comes closer, gripping at her upper arm and tugging her away - away from the king’s displeasure, away from her fraying strands of hope, away from Regina.

But as the grip tightens, becoming more insistent, Snow sees her father’s countenance falter. Then he lowers his gaze nods slightly. It is all the acquiescence she is given as Johanna pulls her from the room and down the hall to her own chambers.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and reviews are always welcome and appreciated.


End file.
